


Love and everything in between

by eipic



Category: Day6 (Band), Pentagon (Korea Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), Stray Kids (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Flirting, Character Death, Drinking to Cope, Established Relationship, First Dates, Historical Inaccuracy, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insomnia, Kid Lee Chan | Dino, Lee Chan | Dino is a Little Shit, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Mentioned Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Mentioned Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Mentioned Lee Chan | Dino, Mentioned Seo Changbin, Mentioned Yoon Jeonghan, Permanent Injury, Post-Break Up, Rehabilitation, Shy Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Soft Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Telegrams, War, What Was I Thinking?, World War II, but it's not really a date?, chan and seokmin are related, seungkwan is the sun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-05-31 02:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15110261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eipic/pseuds/eipic
Summary: a series of one shots of various pairings about everything and anything that could happen to them from the beginning to the end and everything in between.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is an experiment really to see how well i can write shorter stories between various pairings in universes alongside one another.  
> i don't mind requests being placed, however, please understand however i have spurs of imagination and it takes me a while to finish ideas that i'm given  
> enjoy your reading experience  
> \- goldfish

WELCOME TO THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING

 

feature one: WOOCHAN **(WOOJIN X BANGCHAN)** _STRAY KIDS_ 'Somewhere far from here' [status: complete]

feature two: VERKWAN **(VERNON X SEUNGKWAN)** _SEVENTEEN_ 'Count the stars' [status: complete]

feature three: SEOKSOO **(DOKYEOM X JOSHUA)** _SEVENTEEN_ 'In my dreams' [status: complete]

feature four: HUIDAWN **(HUI X E'DAWN)** _PENTAGON_ 'Lost' inspired by Violet [status: complete]

feature five: JAEBRI **(JAE X YOUNG K)** _DAY6_ 'Stolen Flowers (stolen heart) [status: editing]


	2. SOMEWHERE FAR FROM HERE ; WOOCHAN

One village, a couple of hundred families and one man in a big hat acting like he owned the place. This was going to be the _greatest night ever_ , of course it was. Woojin was almost 25, he shouldn’t need to be faced with another lecture from somebody he knew as much about as he knew about the African horned beetle (and fyi he knew nothing about African Horned Beetles). It felt like high school, college and work all over again, only this time he was at next to Chan, who was chewing on his fingernails.

The guy with the big hat had a voice like nails on a chalkboard and it making it extremely hard to focus on anything he said because his voice was just so distracting, it was driving Woojin crazy because it was actually important what this guy was saying – he knew that much with a back street education and a crash course college time.

“The time is now men!” His scratchy voice echoed around the room making Woojin feel queasy and his ears hurt from whatever vocal cord damage had affected this guy’s voice. He was walking up and down the hall, shouting to be heard at times, carrying a heavy looking walking cane and sporting deep scars that made him look like he had got into a fight with a pit bull some years ago and lost, badly. His voice carried across the room and made Woojin flinch when he passed the row of benches he and Chan were sat on.

He could feel his eyes probing him and Chan, and he could hear the underlying disgust in his voice as he spoke on as his eyes landed on his and Chan’s entwined hands. Some people hated them, some didn’t but it didn’t matter to Woojin because they never stayed around. He just smiled and pretended it didn’t matter to him what they thought of him.

“This is the war to end all wars!” His shrill voice echoed around the room, captivating any person still paying attention to this man drone on like a broken record, it was still hurting Woojin’s ears but he was paying more attention than before because Chan had squeezed his hand and his head shot up so he was looking the hat guy almost in the eye.

Another pace and another disgusted frown and finally the stranger’s heavy boots came to a holt at the front of the room, his eyes scanning the crowd with steely danger misted in their blankness. “We need volunteers. Men willing to fight for their nation and die with pride and honour.” He cast his eyes over the crowd, Woojin could tell he was picking out the fit and able younger members of the village with his eyes. A couple of lads, 50 or so would be ready and raring to go to war, he knew it. He wanted to join them but he had other things on his plate.

A thick silence fell on the room for a heartbeat or two as mothers and wives realised that this was their calling, the calling for their son’s and husbands. They were going to war. “All those willing to volunteer raise your hand.” The man’s voice travelled across the town hall and ricocheted off the back wall and bounced around in Woojin’s head for a few seconds.

Chan’s hand shot into the air, but Woojin didn’t stop him – it was Chan’s choice but Woojin wouldn’t be joining him. With a bad leg from a fall when he was a child he would never pass the military medical so he let Chan go his own way in life and follow a path he wanted.

Chan raised his hand and Woojin’s heart sank.

* * *

  _Goodbye_

His words came out sounding bitter and strangled the day the bus came to the old town, trundling along with the noise of a small factory on fire, filling the small bit of sky peeking out from behind the sun with black smoke, engulfing the light. That’s how Woojin felt. _Engulfed_. Normally he was all smiles and sunshine and _do you need any help?_ But today he just wanted to cry or maybe sleep or maybe both. He didn’t want to say goodbye.

Why did Chan have to leave him?

Smiling was beginning to hurt but his heart ached more. Ached to say goodbye one more time, fix Chan’s collar one more time, hold his hand a few seconds longer. He just wanted to turn back the clock a few minutes and get to see Chan smile one more time but it was too late. Chan was being swept up the steps of the bus, his face lost among the crowd of other men boarding the bus, his smile gone from Woojin’s sight. And still he would keep smiling at the bus, propped up on a wooden crutch he would wave goodbye to the bus until he could see it no more and then he would hobble back to his tiny cottage and lie on his bed and not move.

 _I’ll write to you, every week_. That was what Chan had said the night before his departure but it had already been two weeks and Woojin was half expecting there to be a knock on his door any second, he was expecting to see Mr Choi, the post office owner stood at his door holding a yellow page and looking professionally upset as he told Chan’s _housemate_ what had happened to him.

But the knock never came. It didn’t make life easier for Woojin as he visited the post office everyday asking if he had any mail.

Thursday came three weeks after Chan had left and he had two letters waiting for him in a basket at the post office, both written with Chan’s finest fountain pen Woojin had packed in a special pocket he had sewed together himself with leftover leather patched from having his shoes repaired not long ago.

The sight of Chan’s chicken scratch made Woojin’s day, week and month all in one go, leaving him feel slightly light headed and excited for the first time in a long time to get home so he could read the letters.

With a candle lit and a mug of the most disgusting tea he had ever drank clutched in his hand he began to read the first letter Chan had written to him, it was only a few lines long but it was all Woojin needed right now to know Chan was safe and doing ok from his place God knows where (the return addressed had been inked out, probably to stop spies intercepting and reading his mail.)

_My dearest Woojin,_

_As it sounds horrible to say out loud I write this on paper. My heart aches to hear your voice once again, even for a few seconds. I miss the soft laughs you made when I slipped down the stairs and in the twinkle in your eye when you smile. I can imagine you now in my mind: you’ll be sat in the wooden chair near the window, a mug of tea in your hand and you’ll be smiling – possibly holding back tears. Just know I miss you as much as you miss me._

_With love always,  
Chan_

Woojin whipped away a stray tear and smiled at the torn page of parchment that looked like the back of an old medical form. Chan was thinking of him at least, he was aware that Woojin missed him and he knew exactly who Woojin was. He smiled and tucked the letter away in his pocket and opened the second letter, packed slightly more than the other envelop and slightly heavier.

Out the packaging dropped three things. A sock with a car’s face stitched on it by Chan, a photograph of Chan looking sophisticated in his uniform as a new private and finally a letter much longer the one Woojin had been reading before.

_My dearest Woojin,_

_It has been a week since I last wrote but somehow I imagine you didn’t receive the previous letter so I send you this one with the hopes that when it does reach you it will fill your heart with joy and make you feel better about missing me._

_I think of you often. I’m told I’m a fool for it and I should focus on the tasks at hand. I’m training to become a medic so that I can return to you in one piece because I can already imagine the exotic way you would choose to murder me if I returned with missing limbs._

_I would like you to know I have made a friend, a private too from the next town over from our own, his name is Changbin and he is trying to make a better life for himself he says when asked why he joined the army._

_He laughs at me sometimes, only because I use one of your old photographs as a bookmark in my bible but I can’t help but miss you more when reminded of how far from home I am from you. I miss you more with each second and I know Changbin shares my own labours, he has a younger brother at home. He won’t tell me his name but he means a lot to him._

_Changbin just calls him ‘J’ but I think that’s enough._

_I shall speak no more of Changbin but the light is running out as I complete the final sentences of my letter home. Sleep well and dream fondly of me my love, I shall be home before Christmas. I am promised that._

_With love always,  
Chan_

Woojin smiled fondly at the second letter and took to standing, his evening had just begun and he had to set about to doing many things such as cook his dinner, visit Mrs Ahn and give her some soup and sleep like Chan had instructed him to do in his letter.

* * *

Chan didn’t come home at Christmas, or Easter, or when the summer did return again in the June but Woojin kept receiving letters until Mid-July when Chan sent his last with a broken pencil. It was barely a letter, simply a few sentences addressed to Woojin in the heat of battle since he had reached status of becoming the field medic he had so dreamed of becoming.

_My dearest Woojin,_

_My pencil wears thin and the light dims faster than ever but this letter is written to tell I love you, one last time before my pencil can write no more. I shall be home in one month to hopefully the day this letter arrives to you._

_With love always,  
Chan_

Woojin scoffed. Always another month or another holiday he would be back for, but it never happened. Chan was never coming home, it had been a year and Woojin was missing the sound of Chan’s voice and the sparkle in his eye when he had some crazy idea. Woojin wished the war would just end. He didn’t care if they won or lost. He just wanted Chan. Home. Safe. Unharmed.

A pounding of fists against Woojin’s tiny cottage’s wooden door drew him from his thoughts and to whoever could be banging on his door at midday on a Sunday when most would be at church. Woojin had stopped attending church months ago after his leg took a turn for the worse and he hurt when he limped more than a few strides.

There, in all his glory stood Chan, holding his rucksack, his expression tired but his eyes filled with a bright happiness. Something was different. Something was wrong. Woojin had a gut feeling about it but he ignored it as he collided with Chan, his tears falling in waves as he hugged Chan with all his strength. Chan had gone to war and innocent boy, barely living in his mid-20s but returned a man, a brave man who Woojin loved.

The nightmares that plagued Chan came that night, waking Woojin from his sleep, leaving him worried for Chan as he watched him thrash about in his sleep and the sweat begin to stain the cheap sheets they owned. “Chan,” Woojin whispered rocking Chan back and forth, “Chan, please wake up.” He whispered, scared. Chan didn’t seem to get the hint so Woojin shook him a little harder.

The jolt woke Chan who looked up at Woojin with complete helplessness plastered all over his face. It stopped Woojin’s breath when he saw just how vulnerable Chan was. And Chan was the bravest and strongest man Woojin knew. War had broken him in a way he wouldn’t understand, he could see it in the younger’s eyes but he would be there for him.

Chan looked so broken as he wrapped his arms around Woojin neck and cried himself back to sleep on Woojin’s shoulder. So Woojin held him and pretended he was strong enough for Chan because that was what he needed when he opened up to Woojin and broke down his own walls. It broke Woojin’s heart knowing just how broken Chan was in this moment.

Woojin’s lover didn’t stay long. A week maybe a week and a half, Woojin couldn’t remember. All he could remember was waving the bus away all over again and going home to pretend the time he had with Chan hadn’t happened because it hurt too much in his heart to think about it.

* * *

He would remember the day it came like it was yesterday because never in his life had he cried so hard or for so long. He couldn’t forget something like that with every breath he took, every breath feeling like it was mocking him, even years on.

It was Mr Choi at the door, his eyes red as though he might have been crying before turning up at Woojin’s door. “Mr Choi?” His voice had been small, quiet, swallowed by the emotions swimming in his chest and the fear filling his head. The post office owner seemed to look past Woojin with sad eyes, “Can I come in Woojin?” He asked, his voice choked with emotion as he looked through Woojin.

Sat in his favourite chair, the one Chan had brought him a long time ago as a birthday present, he was presented with a brown envelope, thin and open containing a yellow slip of paper.

_Dear next of kin_

_Apologises of the armed forces but we regret to inform you that Private Medic Bang Chan had been killed in action. We have enclosed a coroner’s report if you wish to know the reasoning behind your loved one’s loss and sacrifice for our fine country._

Woojin felt sick, he still felt sick when he thought back to the letter. Hs hands were numb, and he cried.


	3. VERKWAN ; COUNT THE STARS

The sounds of morning birds nesting and the rustle of the wind through the tree branches were the only things to be heard within ear shot. Hansol liked it like this. Just him, the stars and the wind. He could escape the real world here and pretend he was something he had always wanted to be. Here he could be a king, or a dragon, or no longer a tired student running on 3 hours sleep and 4 cans of red bull. Here he was free from the reality of school and work.

Hansol was free to be himself: the down to earth, laid back, slightly shy 17-year-old set on becoming a future Business Major when he reached college with a strong love for old books and an infinity with the past. Hansol was free to pretend he was a curator, not destined to be some big boss CEO whose employees hate him. His freedom was with nature, where he could write his own stories, make his own future and relax from a stressful week of school.

A fox dashed through Hansol’s line of vision, drawing to the unmistakable sound of someone plundering through the forest, disturbing the wildlife. All Hansol could do was sigh and scan the trees surrounding his clearing, searching for a sign of life and the source of all the noise disturbing his woodland wonderland.

A figure stumbled out of the woodland wearing a shirt of eye-watering yellow and Hansol recognised him as a student from his school’s main rival. His name was Seung-something. He had met him maybe once in passing when attending a music competition with his only friend, Chan.

Chan and the rest of the school showcase had signed up for the competition and Hansol had gone along as the supportive friend. He remembered pretty clearly Chan going up to the Seung-whatever guy and offering him a term of good luck before it was his own school’s turn to perform. Hansol remembered it pretty well because Chan seemed to know the guy, and Hansol got a little jealous when he realised Chan wasn’t as antisocial as he was.

“Vernon right?” Seung-nameless panted, staring Hansol in the eyes like a deer in the headlights, clearly he wasn’t expecting to see Hansol sprawled out on the grass in the middle of a forest at stupid o’clock doing nothing. Hansol glanced up at the boy in his horrible yellow shirt and grimaced – curse catholic schools and stupid uniforms – he turned to the side slightly, not quite breaking eye contact with Seung-can’t remember, he nodded and turned to the moon.

Seung-nobody dropped beside Hansol on the floor without an invite and turned to look at the moon too, “You’re Dino’s friend right?” _Dino_ that named sounded off, foreign, unnatural. While Hansol racked his brain for _Dino_ , Seung-forgotten had produced a sandwich from his bag and was offering half to Hansol without the slightest cause for concern.

It seemed rude to turn the food down so Hansol accepted the sandwich and began picking at it, the hunger he had been ignoring since the beginning of the night had suddenly silenced itself and he didn’t really want the sandwich but he also didn’t want to be rude. It’s tough being a people person.

“You don’t remember my name do you?” The newcomer asked with a quite snigger as he attempted to hide his laughter as he watched Hansol’s face drop and shake his head in defeat, Seung-what smiled and relaxed, “It’s ok. I’m Seungkwan – I didn’t really expect you to remember me.” Hansol shared his warm smile before turning back to the sky.

“You don’t talk much.” Seungkwan mused over a cheese sandwich he had produced from his school bag along with a second ham sandwich, a yoghurt pot and a milkshake. Hansol shook his head, his expression blank, he was trying not to stare at all the food Seungkwan had brought with him it seemed impossible Seungkwan could eat it all.

That was a lie. Seungkwan finished all the food he had arrived with and was laying on his back complaining that he was still hungry to a Hansol who simply smiled at him, his shoulders shaking occasionally with silent laughter at the older stargazer.

Possibly an hour had passed since Seungkwan had turned up and all Seungkwan had done was talk but Hansol had enjoyed it, it was nice having company sometimes. “How come you don’t talk Vernon?” Seungkwan inquired as he sketched the constellations of the sky with his finger in the air, all Hansol did was shrug, watching Seungkwan’s finger intensely like it might drop off if he didn’t.

“Do you come here every day, Vernon?” Seungkwan was playing with a clump of grass he had pulled from the ground, watching Hansol’s face for a change in expression or him to move in some way as a response to the question. Hansol croaked out a few soft words, “Only on Fridays.” Seungkwan nodded and dropped the grass clearly bored of the activity of tearing the grass apart, instead he chose to move to sit closer to Hansol, now Shoulder to shoulder, knees knocking when Seungkwan fidgeted.

It was impossibly warm for Hansol sat so close to Seungkwan. Each time Seungkwan turned to talk to him he would feel his hot breath wash over his cheek and his neck making him feel warm and tingly inside for a few seconds before he had to ignore the feeling and decipher the question or comment Seungkwan had made. It was nice sat in the company of Seungkwan because even if he wasn’t one for talking Seungkwan didn’t mind, he kept Hansol involved in the conversation but he never pressured him for a verbal reply. Hansol could see why Chan was friends with Seungkwan.

Currently, he was going on a rant about Catholic schools, about how Jesus was some guy a couple of thousand years ago who needed a reality check. Hansol couldn’t say he agreed with Seungkwan but he had never really formed an opinion on religion. His family wasn’t religious other than his cousin, Jisoo, who spoke like he was constantly quoting the bible.

Sometime in the conversation Seungkwan had started holding his hand, he didn’t know why but Hansol didn’t really care because he was too busy enjoying the bolt of warmth that had shot through his hands leaving his whole body a thousand degrees hotter giving him warm fuzzy feeling he wasn’t used to. Seungkwan smiled at him, pulling him out of his thoughts and squeezed their entwined hands, “I’m starving. Wanna go get chocolate cake?” Seungkwan registered Hansol confused expression and grinned because it was still ass o’clock, “I know this all night diner that serves the best chocolate cake in existence.”

“Ok. Let’s go.” Hansol smiled pulling Seungkwan to his feet with a pull.

*

Hansol couldn’t find words to call Seungkwan a liar, it was the best chocolate cake he had ever eaten. Seungkwan was on his second slice as Hansol finished off half his cake, it was so good Hansol couldn’t finish it. “Have mine,” Hansol mumbled pushing his plate towards Seungkwan whose face lit up like the sun as he began devouring the leftover cake. Seeing Seungkwan so happy about a piece of cake made Hansol smile gently to himself.

“How come,” Seungkwan said between mouthfuls of cake, “We’ve never met properly before? Chan talks about you loads but he never invites you out.” Hansol shrugged, the answer being he always turned Chan down because he didn’t know who Chan was going to be with or where they were going. Hansol had always had this problem with going certain places, it left him on edge going too far away.

Seungkwan polished off his extra slice and a half and his attention drifted towards the window to the night sky and to the stars painted across a black canvas, Hansol followed his line of vision and smiled up at the stars, “Have you ever tried counting the stars?” Hansol shook his head, Seungkwan sighed, “I used to when I was a kid. I got bored after a few minutes.” Hansol hummed in an understanding he lacked the experience of, “However,” Seungkwan sported a tiny smirk Hansol nearly missed if he hadn’t glanced over at him for several seconds, “I would count the stars in your eyes forever.” Seungkwan smiled, pleased with himself.

Hansol paused, frozen in place, a steady bush forming on the tops of his cheeks he tried ignoring. In front of him, he stared at Seungkwan. Pure sunshine was sprinkled in his eyes, his blonde hair reflecting the bad lighting of the run-down diner they were sat in, he looked like an angel with his hair creating that of a halo, his eyes seemed to just glow with warmth and his smile radiated happiness. Hansol could watch Seungkwan forever.

“Vernon,” Hansol looked up blankly then smiled at Seungkwan, “My name’s Hansol.” Seungkwan stopped what he was saying, gaped at Hansol for a heartbeat then continued, “Hansol, want to watch a movie at mine?” Hansol smiled at his new friends, and nodded, he would watch paint dry if he meant he got to sit next to Seungkwan a few minutes more.


	4. SEOKSOO ; In My Dreams

“If the sky’s awake, I’m awake.” Chan declared with a pout, dropping down onto the bed behind him with a loud grunt as he landed on a piece of Lego but he was too old to show his uncle he had hurt himself in his tantrum of not wanting to go to sleep at 9.30pm on a school night. Chan was a hyperactive, hyperaware 5-year-old who had been living with his uncle for three days and Seokmin already wanted to phone up Soonyoung and say ‘take your brat back and keep him forever’ but as Chan’s biological uncle – as Soonyoung had insisted on every time Seokmin rang him – it was his duty to care for the little shit.

Soonyoung was Seokmin’s closest friend and sadly a child welfare officer who had been charged with the care of Chan for six months’ after his mother has surrendered him in fear of something happening to him because of his abusive father. In all the time Chan had been living with Soonyoung, Seokmin didn’t even know his sister had a son. Chan was certainly a surprise when he turned up on Sunday clutching his tiny suitcase and Soonyoung brandishing a report in his hands from some higher up singing off custody to Seokmin.

For three days straight all Seokmin had heard come out of Chan’s mouth were strings of curses no 5-year-old should know, reasons to argue, and constant screaming. Chan was steadily reminding Seokmin why he had never wanted to have children when asked in High school health classes. And now he was tasked with putting a little demon to bed before he murdered him.

Another scream came out Chan’s tiny mouth – for such a small child he made so much noise. Seokmin tensed up, resisting the urge to cover his ears and waded through the mess of toy scattered across the spare room floor. “Lee Chan,” Seokmin reprimanded, “If you don’t get into bed this second, you will have no ice cream after your dinner for a month.” Was he being too harsh? He questioned his parenting antics as Chan scrambled into bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin as tight as possible, his expression somewhat resentful of his uncle walking towards him. “Why do I have to go to sleep? I’m not tired and you don’t go to sleep!” Chan shouted, gripping the blanket even tighter. Seokmin was feeling like a lost cause as he perched himself on the end of Chan’s bed and tried to talk to him like a civilised adult, “You have to go to sleep or you’ll be tired tomorrow and you won’t be able to play with your friends.”

The mention of Chan’s two friends Seungkwan and Hansol made Chan change his mind immediately about staying up all night. Chan yawned and shifted in his new bed to find a comfortable position to go to sleep. A soft smile settled on Seokmin’s face as finally, the little shit bag was going to sleep after an hour and a half of arguing. Seokmin slipped out the room unnoticed and began his evening tidy up of the mess Chan had caused in his hour-long hissy fit and his attempts to feed the TV his dinner.

A poor quality episode of some drama Seokmin didn’t recognize played as he attempted to scrape baked lasagne off a baking tray while half awake. Sure, Seokmin was tired and he didn’t want to be stood there scrubbing pots 4 times over because his ability to cook lacks but the idea of going to bed was pointless. His head would hit his pillow and he would be awake again, unable to sleep, his doctors had told him it was idiopathic insomnia: a condition from his childhood that he had brought into his adulthood, no one was sure the reasons behind his type of insomnia but he tried his best, took his meds at appropriate hours and stared at walls to pass time.

The time didn’t occur to Seokmin as he finished his third load of washing and had remade his bed and rearranged his wardrobe until his alarm went off. 8 am, time to wake Chan up and attempt to get him to daycare on time with no shouting and no bruises for either of them to wear. Now, don’t take that the wrong way, Seokmin was in no way abusive to Chan but Chan didn’t have the best balance in the world and it made him very clumsy, especially on stairs.

“Rise and shine Channie, you get to see Hansol and Seungkwan today.” Seokmin announced in a singsong voice, throwing open the curtains and releasing the sunlight outside into Chan’s room, making the 5-year-old grumpy and start hissing because he had gone to bed very late the night before. Chan rubbed his eyes and lay limp on his bed, ignoring Seokmin’s attempts to get him out of bed.

In the end, Seokmin had to resort to desperate measures. Seokmin took two handfuls of Chan’s cars 2 bedspread and yanked the duvet off the child’s body and dumped it on the floor, “Out of bed Chan, we don’t have long.” Chan rolled about on the bed, complaining about the cold but Seokmin took no notice, simply placing some clean clothes on his bed and leaving the room to find some cereal.

Chan had been living with Seokmin for four days but it felt more like years considering the number of toys littering the floor, the number of children’s socks Seokmin found in strange places like in the fridge and under the sink, or the amount of cereal Seokmin found in his cupboards. Before Chan Seokmin would’ve drunk three cups of coffee and then left the house to bug Soonyoung on his days off or try and focus on his work.

Eventually, Seokmin found an open box of cornflakes, he left them on the side while he changed into his work clothes.

Seokmin re-emerged from his bedroom in a red polo and was already making mental notes to himself like never let Chan get dressed by himself, his shirt is inside out or I should stop leaving cereal on the side, now I’m going to picking cornflakes out my boxers for a month. It was an understatement to call Chan a difficult but at 8.30 am, Seokmin didn’t have time to think. He grabbed a breakfast bar out the cupboard and picked Chan up under the arms, much to the dislike of the 5-year-old who let his frustrations by pounding Seokmin’s back with his tiny fists.

It took a lot of patience and a few self-censored swears before Seokmin had Chan wearing his shirt the right way on and he was wearing his dayglow because Seokmin wasn’t going to live with the knowledge that if his nephew got lost it was his own fault for not making him visible at all times. Seokmin took the unhappy boy by the hand and they left the apartment building in silence.

The daycare center didn’t open until 9.30 on Thursdays but Seokmin was dying inside and had run out of coffee so instead of letting Chan ogle at the television for an extra 15 minutes, Seokmin had dragged him out the house early in the hopes of the coffee shop he passed daily would be open for him to buy the strongest coffee they had with the most sugar he could get in it to get him through the day.

Not even halfway to the café, Chan began to play up again. He stopped still in the middle of the pavement, letting go of Seokmin’s hand and began screaming and pointing at a teddy bear keychain a passing pedestrian had hanging off their bag. Chan wanted it but Seokmin wanted coffee more. Seokmin bit his tongue to stop himself from swearing at the child and picked him up, carrying him on his hip the rest of the way to the coffee shop.

To Seokmin’s relief, the coffee shop had just opened. When the little bell twinkled above Seokmin’s head there was clearly a scuffle for someone to reach the counter of the shop. Chan was still complaining and screaming and crying over the teddy bear but Seokmin had learned to ignore him and just kept a tight grip on him on his waist as he made his way towards the counter to order his drink of the morning.

Maybe Seokmin would have been able to order if he wasn’t faced with an angel. Chan was still pounding his fists into Seokmin’s shoulder, the streets outside were still filled with people with their chatter reaching the inside of the coffee shop through the open windows, and the barista still looked windswept but for the first time in possibly all of Seokmin’s life he had been rendered speechless.

The barista smiled at Seokmin. _Oh, no, he smiled at him_. Seokmin could feel the flush traveling up his neck faster and faster the more he looked at the angel. Chan grabbed a hold of Seokmin’s ear, clearly frustrated with the sudden stop for no reason, and gave it the hardest tug he could. Seokmin bit his lip and inwardly cursed as he removed the boy from his hip and stood him on the ground, where Seokmin crouched to his height and frowned at Chan, “Lee Chan, what did you do that for?” Seokmin demanded, rubbing his sore ear with his hand that wasn’t holding Chan’s wrist.

The child simply stuck his tongue out at Seokmin and began staring at the shiny, gloss wood counter that must’ve cost a fortune for the owner of the shop to put in. Seokmin returned his attention back to the angel and smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck as he scanned the menu overhead.

“Is your ear ok?” and the angel spoke with his angel voice. If Seokmin had been tongue-tied before the cat certainly had his tongue now as he attempted to say something. All that left Seokmin’s mouth was “mmh fine.” Which wasn’t much of a response as he continued massaging his ear. “Want some ice?” The barista asked with his stupidly nice voice and stupidly pretty eyes, Seokmin choked on his saliva a little and gave the barista one of his own blinding smiles, “I’m sure my ear will be fine.” The barista shrugged and picked up a mug and began cleaning it, “What can I get you then?”

Seokmin hesitated between saying _you_ and _what do you recommend_ , in the end, he went with “Whatever has the most caffeine, I need it.” The barista flashed Seokmin another smile and pulled his dark green cap over his eyes a little better. Stitched onto the cap was a little white coffee mug which Seokmin assumed to be the logo, just below the logo was a short sentence ‘I’ll be happy to help you today’ followed by the name ‘Joshua’ stitched neatly in cursive on the hat. Seokmin assumed the name belonged to his cute barista and smiled dreamily.

From one of the coffee machines ‘Joshua’ smiled at Seokmin, “How old is the little tyke?” Seokmin glanced down at Chan to see him with his nose pressed against the glass case containing a few cakes and biscuits, clearly eyeing them up, Seokmin sighed shaking his head, “He’s 5 but he’s a demon so he might actually be immortal and just hate me.” Joshua the barista chuckled, his shoulders shaking and the skin crinkling by his eyes. Why did he have to look so damn angelic?

A screech of steam made Chan jump just as Joshua the barista began pouring Seokmin’s drink, Joshua laughed at Chan in an innocent way and offered him a carton of milk with Seokmin’s coffee. “Does he go to the daycare down the street?” The barista with the cute laugh asked, wiping his hands on the towel he had left on the counter, Seokmin nodded, “It’s a bit out of the way for me to take him on my way to work but I don’t mind.” Joshua could snap his fingers and Seokmin would start telling him his life story.

“Why do you ask?” Joshua was caught off guard by the question. Chan and Seokmin had taken a seat by the counter and Seokmin had decided to keep the conversation going over his coffee, Joshua shrugged, “I have a friend that works there.” Seokmin smiled back at the little gesture and began to drink the coffee he had been given.

* * *

Generally, Seokmin didn’t consider himself the forgetful or oblivious type but he didn’t notice he hadn’t paid for his coffee that morning until he was halfway through his shift at the bowling alley. The building was deserted in the day, save for a few skiving teenagers and an elderly couple who were enjoying a trip out the house for the first time in a long time, in all the peace of the bowling alley and the lack of customers Seokmin was given the chance to let him attention linger on what had happened in the morning.

He had met an angel. An angel he had thought was named Joshua. He had still met an angel, only this angel was named Jisoo and Joshua was just his ‘coffee name’ as the barista had explained it. Jisoo was just as much an angelic name as Joshua and Seokmin were hating how much time he was spending thinking about Jisoo because he knew it was pointless.

Jisoo didn’t seem the sort of person to linger on a face from his memory but Seokmin was. He analyzed and over analyzed every smile wrinkle, every glimpse of tooth he saw, ever strand of raven hair that peeked out from his cap. It makes Seokmin seem creepy but he simply didn’t get to experience this emotion often. He was constantly in a state of exhausted yet unable to sleep, he works two jobs and now he had a 5-year-old to raise since his sister was too scared to raise him. It makes him seem insensitive but he’s just simply exhausted and frustrated and wants nothing more than a chance to _not have to care_ for a few hours.

“Can I get a pair of size 5s.” The voice was always one Seokmin wouldn't forget, his eyes drifted up from his phone he was playing under the desk to meet Soonyoung’s eyes and witness the monstrosity that was his hair, “Who did you lose a bet to this time?” Seokmin winced, unable to look at his hair any longer else he might go blind, “Minghao. He said I couldn’t fit an entire bag of marshmallows in my mouth, he was right of course but that’s beyond the point.” Seokmin shook his head, still unable to look up at Soonyoung’s bright red hair, “If they couldn’t hear you from space already, they can see you now.” Seokmin sniggered, reaching down and lifting up Soonyoung’s bag of crap he had been taking care off, “You owe me.”

Soonyoung gave Seokmin one his usual backhanded compliments, waved goodbye and left without a second thought leaving Seokmin to check the time and clock out to collect Chan from daycare before he got another phone call off Jeonghan worried if Seokmin was ever going to turn up for his nephew.

Call it a lack of self-control but as Seokmin passed the little coffee shop he dropped in for a coffee on the go. To his surprise Jisoo was still there, looking bored at his mind chewing on a straw and tapping his fingers on the wooden counter, he didn’t even blink when the little bell to signal someone had stepped into the shop twinkled, he simply seemed in a daze, away with the fairies looking sleepy. “Hey,” Seokmin smiled, waving a hand in front of Jisoo’s face to catch his attention. Jisoo seemed to go through a second of rebooting all computer programs before returning the smile to Seokmin and picking up a mug from under the work surface, “Actually, I was wondering if I could get this one to go.” Seokmin smiled sheepishly to which Jisoo happily complied only returning to Seokmin with a raised eyebrow and a pen poised over the label of the cup, “And who’s coffee is this?” Jisoo laughed, his smile something God must have handcrafted himself, “Seokmin.” Seokmin just about managed to spit out as he turned bashful again, that laugh would be the death of him and he was sure Jisoo knew that already.

A moment later Jisoo passed Seokmin his drink and waved him out of the shop, encouraging him to come back sometime soon so he could offer him a different coffee he might like. Seokmin smiled and waved back to Jisoo promising him he would be back soon, silently telling him it was for more than just the coffee.

* * *

Here’s my number **_xxxxxxx_** text me sometime if you’re free :)

Maybe Seokmin nearly dropped his coffee down himself outside the daycare center when he noticed the neat little comment just below his name of the cup label. Maybe his heart rate picked up and his brain went into overdrive as he read the number and the note over and over again. Maybe he walked straight into the back of Jeonghan and he was wishing he was dead because Jeonghan had murder in his eyes.

“You’re early…” Jeonghan narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious about something but that soon evaporated when he remembered why he wanted to talk to the bouncing ball of sunshine in front of him staring at his coffee cup like it was the second Jesus, “Chan got into a fight today.” Seokmin snapped his head in Jeonghan’s direction, his eyes wide with disbelief. “That can’t be right, sure he’s a brat but he’s not violent.” Hissed Seokmin with a hint of mirth, he had pride for Chan even if he was a little brat at home, no one was going to stand there and pass the blame to his nephew without good reason. Jeonghan glanced behind him at the gathering of parents to collect their children and nodded to a side room, “Let’s take this to my office.”

Jeonghan’s office was less like Seokmin had expected. It was smaller than he thought it would be but there was enough room for Jeonghan, a few paintings were blue-tacked onto the beige walls he had been offered by students and in a corner of the room was a decade old computer Seokmin thought he would never see the likes of ever again. “So, the thing with Chan is, he didn’t start the fight.” That was a breath of fresh air for Seokmin at least as he listened to Jeonghan speak, “Seungkwan was being picked on by one of the boys in the older group for having two dads so Chan stepped in.” Seokmin let out a sigh he was holding in; Chan had been trying to do the right thing – he had simply gone the wrong way about it. Seokmin nodded, and dropped his concerned expression, “Is Seungkwan OK?”

Seungkwan was fine just shaken up when Seokmin went into the main classroom to collect Chan. “Uncle Min!” Chan shouted, running over on his stumpy legs and gripping Seokmin’s ankle, “I didn’t mean it Uncle Min! They were hurting Seungkwan!” Chan wailed, clearly upset about his own disposition. Seokmin crouched down to Chan’s level and wrapped his arms around him, “It’s ok Chan, I know you were trying to do the right thing but next time tell Jeonghan instead.” Chan stopped his cry, sniffed and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his hoody, “So I still get ice cream?” He asked hopefully. Seokmin couldn’t find it in himself to tell Chan no.

The smile which lit up Chan’s face made Seokmin’s day as they left the daycare centre hand in hand talking about Chan’s day. About how Hansol got his hand stuck in a Nutella jar, about how Jeonghan had spilt paint on the floor, and about how Seungkwan had proved he could eat half a banana in on mouthful – that story made Seokmin laugh but Chan didn’t understand and ignored his guardian like he did most days. Chan was animated about his descriptions, taking Seokmin’s mind off the phone number he had written on the paper cup he still had gripped in his left hand, refusing to let it go until he was in the safety of his apartment where he could add the contact to his phone.

Despite Chan’s whining about being hungry – even after being given an apple and a ham sandwich on the way home – the first thing on Seokmin’s to do list was to save Jisoo’s number to his phone.

**[4.29pm 090618] SEOKMIN  
Hey Jisoo, it’s Seokmin**

**[4.32pm 090818] JISOO  
that was fast, how’s the evil monster?**

Seokmin laughed at his phone, butterflies eating at his insides as he typed back a quick message, tying his hardest to split his attention between laying some turkey dinosaurs out on a baking tray to cook and type back. All these teens could type one handed and multitask but Seokmin had been born when entertainment was a stick and a can so he was forced to put up with completing one task at a time

**[4.59pm 090618] SEOKMIN  
Chan is fine, loud as usual. Complaining he’s starving.**

Seokmin could already imagine the look on Jisoo’s face, his eyes would close slightly, the corners of his lips would turn up and he would chuckle, sounding like an angel with his stupid angel face ruining Seokmin’s day because of how much of an angel he was.

**[5.01pm 090618] JISOO  
poor Minnie, sounds like chan wants his mom**

**[5.01pm 090618] SEOKMIN  
I would want my mom too if I hadn’t seen her in six months**

Oh, shit. Seokmin should not have said that, now he was feeling like he was reliving that one Harry Potter scene in the first film where Hagrid says the wrong things to the trio. Maybe this whole experience would turn out to be a Hagrid, a bad nightmare he could wake up form in a moment and find himself at work but that was impossible – you needed to be able to sleep to have nightmares.

**[5.03pm 090618] JISOO  
oh, I’m sorry that must be a sensitive subject**

**[5.03pm 090618] SEOKMIN  
it’s not that sensitive. For chan, it’s been six months but I haven’t spoken to my sister in 7 years**

**[5.05pm 090618] JISOO  
chan is your nephew?**

**[5.05pm 090618] SEOKMIN  
yeah and he’s a little shit**

**[5.06pm 090618] JISOO  
say hi to him for me please. I’ve got a work shift now**

“Uncle Min!” Chan bellowed from the living room, his eyes filled with unshed tears and his favourite plastic fire truck was in pieces at his feet. Seokmin sighed, his peace and quiet shattered by a 5-year-old who didn’t know when it was time to call it quits.

* * *

The conversations carried on for weeks after the first one. Seokmin still went into the little coffee shop every Thursday but the highlight of his day everyday was the little wake up text or goodnight text he would receive off Jisoo because he was just _that type_ of person. It made Seokmin feel bubbly and made his insides feel like a bottle of sprite shaken up ready to explode everywhere if he didn’t keep his cap on.

It was a Friday night when Seokmin got a text out of the blue, making his heart rate speed up a little in anxiety.

 **[3.51am 140818] JISOO**  
is it true what jeonghan said  
you have insomnia?

Guilt flooded Seokmin’s emotions as he read and reread the text. When it was put that way he felt like he had been lying to Jisoo, like there was something to blamed for and there was the guilt trying to claw its way out his body and slap him in the face for what he had done wrong to Jisoo.

**[3.56am 140818] SEOKMIN  
I swear I take my meds they’re just shit**

His hands shook with nervous energy as he placed the phone back on his nightstand, he threw his book of his bed and switched his lamp off. Maybe he could pretend the whole event hadn’t ever happened and move on with his life but, that wasn’t going to happen.

The vibrations of Seokmin’s phone surprised the sleep deprived man, causing him to bang his head off the wall behind his head and knock his lamp onto the floor with a deafening crash as he reached for the phone. Sure, the light bulb in the lamp probably shattered but it wasn’t as shaken as Seokmin was when he pressed ‘answer’ on _Jisoo’s_ caller ID.

“Hey Seokmin,” Jisoo’s sunshine voice filled Seokmin’s ears. Jisoo was as optimistic as always but Seokmin couldn’t ignore the drowsiness snapping at his words as he spoke, clearly biting back his own human need to sleep. Seokmin gulped and forced a smile – Jisoo wouldn’t see his smile but he was bound to hear it in his voice – “Hey Jisoo, what’s up?”

“It’s almost 4am Seokminnie, what do you think is up?” Scolded Jisoo making Seokmin feel guilty, like he was the reason Jisoo was still awake at such an ungodly hour. Seokmin paused, feeling the need to apologise to Jisoo.

“Listen Jisoo, I’m sorry to keep you awake…” he mumbled down the receiver only to hear Jisoo sigh heavily followed by what sounded like him getting up off his bed, “I’ve been awake hours _worrying_ about you anyways. I think I might have some tea that might help you sleep.” Seokmin wanted to scoff but Jisoo’s concern was endearing and heartfelt – he knew that much at least.

“Do you like tea?” Jisoo asked suddenly sounding stressed as Seokmin heard a thud down the line, it sounded like something had just been knocked off a shelf and Jisoo didn’t want to clean it up at such a strange hour. Seokmin laughed softly at Jisoo. He laughed one of those laughs you might use when one’s younger sibling trips over their laces one day or if one’s pet cat got its head stuck in a peanut butter jar, “I don’t mind tea.” Another crash and Seokmin was beginning to think he may have to phone for an ambulance for the sake of Jisoo’s life, “Are you ok, Jisoo?” Seokmin worried preparing to throw his blanket off and find Jisoo where ever he was, “I’m fine Seokmin, just remind me where you live again.”

Jisoo may have looked like a sweet little angel but he sure didn’t sound like one when he started hammering on Seokmin’s door at some time past 4 loud enough to wake up the whole floor – thankfully Chan was a heavy sleeper and waking him up was impossible. _Thank God_. The noise continued on for a full minute as Seokmin made a desperate attempt to locate the keys to his front door he had thrown somewhere when he walked in exhausted from the walk home.

If Jisoo was an angel, he certainly flew through the door when Seokmin threw it open mid-knock, “Sorry I don’t buy from door step sellers.” Seokmin yawned with a rub of his eyes. As he stretched Jisoo must’ve seen an opening, he stepped in and pulled Seokmin into a spine crushing hug, winding the man still stood in his poor excuse for pyjamas for a few seconds. Jisoo smiled at Seokmin and suddenly it didn’t matter that there was a dull ache in Seokmin’s back from the strength of the hug, suddenly he wasn’t worried about his neighbours, suddenly he knew everything was ok again.

It was then Seokmin’s turn to bestow a hug on Jisoo and close the door gently behind him, making sure he put the latch back on the door properly. Jisoo seemed all too full of life to be awake at half 4 on a Tuesday morning, “I brought tea,” Jisoo beamed at Seokmin, as angelic as usual, “And I brought a candle. I thought the smell might relax you a little.”

Sweet smelling tea drifted through the air as Jisoo happily brewed Lemon Balm tea in the tiny kitchen Seokmin rarely dared enter in fear of burning his apartment down. The sweet smell of lemon with a minty blend was making Seokmin feel a little light headed and weightless as he sat on his age old sofa drinking in the scent of the tea and the sound of Jisoo’s soft melodies as he sang while he worked. Seokmin truly hoped this remedy would work for his sleepless nights because he was beginning to feel awful for being the reason Jisoo wasn’t sleeping, lack of sleep could make anyone snappish and groggy but Seokmin didn’t want to see Jisoo like that – he didn’t deserve it.

“Seokmin, do you have any honey?” Jisoo’s voice was soft and dripping with exhaustion making Seokmin feel even worse about the whole night. Seokmin rubbed his eyes and decided to join Jisoo in the kitchen, “I think there’s some in the cupboard by the sink, Chan likes honey on toast some mornings.” Seokmin mused, rummaging through his cupboards for the little jar of honey he saved for a rainy day, the expensive kind he would never let Chan touch _. Ever_.

Jisoo laughed at Seokmin, soft as always and joined in the hunt for the lost honey jar, only for both to turn up empty handed from the search. It left Seokmin feeling a little deflated and it must have shown on his face because Jisoo gave him a smile as bright as the sun and a pat on the shoulder, “It doesn’t matter Minnie, we don’t need the honey.” Seokmin fidgeted under his gaze for several seconds before dashing off with an awkward smile to take the mugs from the kitchen and move them into the living room because having Jisoo do that would be rude and Seokmin wasn’t a rude person.

A sleepy Jisoo rubbing his eyes followed Seokmin closely behind, humming a song Seokmin didn’t recognise but it was sweet and soft and reminded Seokmin every bit of Jisoo. Seokmin placed the two chipped mugs on his poor excuse for a coffee table and began moving Chan’s shoes, toys and clothes off the sofa to give Jisoo somewhere to sit while they enjoyed their tea together.

“You can stay here tonight.” Seokmin declared with new found confidence he didn’t have 5 minutes ago, Jisoo looked at him sceptically over his mug, “You look exhausted and I don’t like the idea of you going home like this.” Seokmin concluded, this worries and fears leaking into his words as he sipped what was left of his lemon balm tea. Jisoo pondered Seokmin’s proposal and gave him a bit of a flat expression, his eyes drooping with drowsiness, “I guess I’ve got no choice then.” He yawned placing his mug beside Seokmin’s.

Seokmin too was feeling drowsy now, it was a foreign feeling but it was welcome because he was just so exhausted it was blissful to feel sleep calling his name. Jisoo mumbled something but Seokmin didn’t hear it, he just felt Jisoo curling up at his side and resting his head on his shoulder, “’m going to sleep. Good night Seokmin.” Jisoo yawned and proceeded to press his lips to Seokmin’s temple, “See you in my dreams Minnie.”


	5. HUIDAWN ; LOST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired in part by the translated lyrics of Violet.  
> we delve into the world of Hyojong and how he's dealing with his forever downward spiraling life  
> it's pretty shitty but i tried.
> 
> im thinking of taking this one day next week, it just seems respectful yknow?

_04:42 AM_

Hyojong felt uneasy. It wasn’t uncommon he felt like this. Usually he was stressed or overworked leading him to feel shitty and uneasy but this was a different kind of _uneasy_. This was the one you experience where you’re about to have a mental breakdown in the middle of Tesco because they have no peanut butter and that was the last straw you had left before you broke down crying due to a stressful week.

Loneliness was edging in again, creeping down the street and walking along with Hyojong, as he nursed his bruised fist. Wondering around at stupid o’clock in the morning wasn’t what Hyojong saw as a hobby but here he was wandering around from 24-hour supermarket to 24-hour supermarket hunting down some over the counter pain killers and a jar of peanut butter he could drown his sorrows in since Hongseok had confiscated his ID _and_ his fake ID so he couldn’t go round buying alcohol – like that would stop him anyway.

It had been like this a few days. Hyojong wondering around the back streets of Seoul, crashing at Hongseok’s apartment, drinking his sorrows away in backstreet bars where no one knows his name, his face or his story. It had been a few days too many but it was he had now. He was left with a memory and a broken heart because he had been _too lost_ to fix the one person in his life who had been broken the most.

*

 _Violets_. He had been carrying violets home, a bunch that had been growing wild against the wall of some shitty Chinese restaurant on the way from another one of his disappearing acts. Hyojong had believed that the flowers would be appreciated, make him smile, make him forget about where Hyojong had been. It didn’t work like that.

*

Emptiness had taken a home in Hyojong’s heart, leaving him hollow and cruel. He was smoking more, fighting more, drinking more. It had been a few days he kept telling himself because he had lost track of time. What Hongseok didn’t have the heart to tell Hyojong that those _few days_ , had been almost 6 months ago.

*

When Hyojong walked through the door of the shabby apartment he was met with the cold emptiness he would soon learn to call his best friend. All the windows that could be opened were open as wide as they would go, the cupboard that rarely had anything in them food-wise was empty standing open bare, and the sofa was gone. The place wasn’t even big enough to call an apartment, it was built in two rooms. A large main room which was the kitchen, living room and bedroom all in one with the tiniest bathroom extending out behind a curtain. The place was so small yet with it so cold and empty it felt miles larger and so lonely.

In the middle of it all stood _him_. Tears were falling down his face as he stared into the depth of Hyojong’s eyes accusingly. “I thought you loved me. I thought I could trust you.” He had whispered and that scared Hyojong more than shouting, because shouting would tell Hyojong how he felt, if he was angry or upset or something, but whispering had left Hyojong feeling empty. “I did trust you.” He spat and rubbed at his eyes, they were red and bloodshot – Hyojong would never forget that with every blink he took, it was printed on the inside of his eyelids.

His voice quivered and Hyojong had known he was exhausted, now the flowers seemed pointless and Hyojong had watched everything that ever matter to him shatter. There were no more broken pieces left to fix. “I want to hate you so much.” He had whispered, not looking Hyojong in the eye, “But I love you too much to do that.” Hyojong had stared in awe, and fear, as the tears spilled faster, the hiccups got louder and he could feel his legs shake more and more with every passing second.

“You’ve chosen your path and I can’t stop you walking it but I’m not joining you.” He had whispered, quieter than anything he had before but Hyojong couldn’t say anything, he just watched him wipe his eyes and walk out of the building sniffling to himself.

*

His words were beautiful, Hyojong remembered them. When he wasn’t drunk he would remember the songs he would write and the melodies he would hum. But he didn’t understand what Hyojong was doing. Hyojong was trying to make money, trying to make a better life so Hwitaek didn’t need to work three jobs and only get to dream of a future in music. Hyojong was trying to do something good but something bad had happened.

_05:23 AM_

Hongseok was stood in a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt Hyojong had never seen before wearing a bitter expression as he stared down at the younger man stood in his doorway. “I’m not stupid. I can smell it on your breath.” Hongseok stared down at Hyojong, trying to intimidate the younger but Hyojong was too empty to look like he felt anything. He just looked numb, already somewhere between a state of being nearly dead. “I need somewhere to sleep.”

It was a lie, Hongseok narrowed his eyes at Hyojong with hidden concern, “Stay at your own place.” He grumbled going to close the door, trying to ignore how lost and alone Hyojong looked but then Hongseok remembered: Hyojong didn’t need him, drink and drugs were his new friends.

A foot blocked Hongseok from closing the door the smallest amount. “I can’t go home.” Hyojong sounded close to tears, Hongseok hadn’t seen Hyojong cry once in the 20 years of knowing him, “I keep expecting to see him walk through the door. I need _help,_ Hyung.” Hongseok looked momentarily annoyed with Hyojong before softening and opening the door.

“I know I’m not clean,” Hyojong muttered in passing, “but I need your help because I’m one step away from _it_ and _he_ wouldn’t want that – even if he’s moved on.”


End file.
